In Which DDR is a Rather Important Factor
by fac-me-cocleario-vomere
Summary: Wherein Kiku falls for Arthur. Repeatedly. And also happens to be a highly stereotypical Japanese fanboy. AU, 5 1 format.


The first time Kiku met Arthur was, perhaps, the most memorable of all.

Kiku waited for Alfred at the entrance to the game store, slightly worried. Earlier, Alfred had dashed off as soon as the shop had closed, leaving behind instructions for Kiku to 'wait at the door, 'cus I'm bringin' a bro to meet ya!'.

That was an hour ago. Kiku was beginning to worry. Alfred was usually late, but never an _hour_ late. Unless it was something he _really, really_ didn't want to do. Shifting uncomfortably, Kiku scanned the street, mentally listing off the people he saw.

_No, no, no, no, no, is that- wait, no, that's Matthew, no, no, no- oh, there he is._

Focusing on the blond American, Kiku frowned. He looked unusually irritated- an emotion he was sure Alfred didn't have. Maybe he'd met Ivan on the way back?

Alfred seemed to be dragging someone else- another blonde, who in turn was trailing a string of the foulest curses he had ever heard. Alfred dragged the other man across the street and up the footpath, his irritated expression dissolving into his usual annoyingly happy one as soon as he saw Kiku, who by this time, was starting to look rather amused.

"Kiku!" Alfred beamed, shifting the other man (who had stopped struggling and was starting to look a little blue in the face) to the side and going in for a hug. "Sorry so late, Artie here wouldn't move his ass."

'Artie' flailed around in Alfred's one-armed hug of steel until he was let go, and dropped to the ground with a _thud_. Picking himself up, he turned on Alfred with a vengeance.

"I've told you a thousand times, arsehole, it's _Arthur._ Not 'Artie', 'Art', 'Mrs Housewife', or 'Sir Sparkles-A-Lot'- seriously, where the _fuck_ did you get that one? My. Name. Is. _Arthur._"

He shot one last glare at the slightly subdued American, and turned to Kiku. "Now, I do believe you haven't introduced us yet."

The American perked up almost instantly. "Oh, yeah. Arthur, this is Kiku. Kiku, this is Arthur. He's the 'eyebrow monster' I told you about." he added with what he thought was a conspiratorial wink. It looked like half of his face was having an epileptic fit. But Kiku wouldn't know- he was too busy staring at Arthur. Or, more specifically, his _eyes._

_He has really pretty eyes._

Arthur looked away, presumably to scold Alfred, and the spell was broken. Well, partially, at least. Until he felt a hand on his and realised that _Arthur was holding his hand,_ and his mind imploded.

Arthur shook Kiku's hand politely. "Nice to meet you," he greeted, letting go to check his watch "and I'm truly sorry for my hyperactive cousin, but I really must be going. I'll see you later."

He turned and dashed off through the crowds, ducking and swerving to avoid people. Kiku stared after him, still in an implosion-induced daze. Beside him, Alfred pouted. "God, I can't believe him. He's always after me for being rude, and then he goes and ditches us like that!" He huffed and turned around. "C'mon, Kiku, let's go. I bought a new game a while ago, and I really wanna try it out. You gonna stay for dinner?"

Kiku blinked. "I… uh, sure."

_What just happened?_

The second time Kiku met Arthur, he fell for him. Literally.

To be fair, the library was a maze of corners and alleyways and dead ends, and most of the lights didn't seem to work. And really, Kiku thought, it was a little hard _not_ to lose your composure when a certain green-eyed _someone_ popped up out of nowhere when you turned the corner.

Kiku tripped on a stray loose thread (no, really), and wound up flat on his face in front of a certain green-eyed _someone_ who was laughing a little too hard at his expense, _thank you very much_.

Sitting up, he saw his bag and froze. Somehow, on the way down, it had opened, and several of his more… _questionable_ comics were now spread out on the floor in all their glory.

Still chuckling, Arthur picked one up and opened it. Kiku began to write his obituary.

_Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today-oh, wait, I hate my siblings. Dear annoying people who may-or-may-not be related to me, we are gathered here today to celebrate- I mean, mourn the death of one Kiku Honda- _

A low whistle startled Kiku out of his reverie. Arthur grinned at him over the top of the book.

"I'm _impressed_. You've got stuff even _Liz_ doesn't have. I'd thought that was impossible."

Kiku blinked at him, and promptly forgot how to think.

After a few minutes of attempting to remember how to function (and watching Arthur read his comics), Kiku opened his mouth to speak, and immediately regretted it.

"Arthur, are you gay?"

Blushing furiously, he covered his mouth with both hands. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Are you assuming that I'm gay on the basis that I read gay comics?"

Kiku shook his head furiously, attempting to sink into the floor (but failing). "N-No! Not at all! It- It was just-"

Arthur cracked up. "I- I was_ joking_!" he choked out between giggles. "You- You should have seen your _face!_ It was _priceless!_"

Kiku turned even _redder_. He was _really _starting to regret coming to the library. Arthur, recovering from his fit of laughter, grinned up at him. "But yes, I _am,_ in fact, gay. You're quite the judge of character, it seems."

Kiku nearly forgot to breathe again.

_What?_

It was the fourth time he met him that Kiku decided that he no longer had the ability to be shocked by anything Arthur-related.

Working in the game shop was something he adored. He was surrounded by his beloved games all day, and even though he had to actually _talk_ to people, at least he could spread gaming propaganda while he was at it. Sending off another 'satisfied' customer with a brain full of lies and a fist full of pamphlets, he sat down on the stool behind the counter and allowed a smile (well, what _he_ saw as a smile. Everyone else saw it as a facial twitch) to cross his face.

Looking out the window, he noticed a blonde man with several- no, wait, make that _tons_ of piercings crossing the street. Something struck a chord in his memory, and he frowned.

_Wait, isn't that- no, no, it's probably someone else. There are heaps of blonde guys around._

Said blonde guy walked into his shop, and Kiku nearly fainted. It _was_, in fact Arthur, and he was covered in rings. And studs. And whatever-the-hell else you could put through your skin. He hadn't thought Arthur was into that kind of thing, what with the sweater-vests and the stacks of books and the tea and the 'gentlemanly' behaviour and okay, Kiku was starting to sound like a creeper. But the fact remained. Arthur was currently in his shop, covered in piercings and leather and generally looking like a total punk. And Kiku would be lying if he said Arthur didn't look hot. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring, too.

Arthur grabbed a game off the shelf and turned towards the counter. Kiku attempted to look nonchalant as he approached, seemingly absorbed in his phone. Dumping the game and a few coins on the counter, Arthur murmured something about 'gift wrapping, please', and continued texting whoever it was. He then turned white, and nearly dropped the phone.

"K-Kiku?"

Kiku coughed uncomfortably. "Um… yes? Is something wrong?"

"I, uh- shit. Okay. Um, don't tell anyone? Please?"

"About what?"

"The uh, the piercings. And the punk stuff."

"What?"

"I lost a bet with that stupid American arsehole. He made me bring the stupid leather out. _Again._ And then he sent me out to get some stupid game or something."

"Ah. That doesn't explain the piercings."

Arthur shifted uneasily. "…I was a bit of a punk back in England."

_A bit? I'd hate to see a lot._

Kiku picked up the game to scan it, and immediately recognised it as the one Alfred wanted to get his brother for his birthday. Which was strange, because normally Alfred would have just come in instead. It wasn't like he was pressed for time or anything- oh. _Oh._

It seemed Alfred wasn't as bad at reading the atmosphere as he'd previously thought. Kiku made a mental note to thank him later.

Kiku handed the gift-wrapped game back to him. Arthur took it and hesitated, shooting Kiku an uncomfortable glance. "Seriously, don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to keep up."

Kiku nodded solemnly. "I will not."

So Kiku did what all good Asian kids did when they wanted to impress (read: were infatuated with) someone, and invited him over for a nice, friendly game of Dance Dance Revolution. Except it wasn't friendly. Or nice.

Okay, so _maybe_ Kiku had invited him over for the sole purpose of beating his arse- and _wow_ did that sound wrong- at a game he knew he was awesome at, and _maybe_ he was getting some enjoyment out of watching Mr Pissy Gentleman get flustered, and maybe, just _maybe,_ it _might_ be all a ploy to see if he was as good at body language as he had thought, and the signs he was picking up on were not, in fact, a figment of his imagination, but real, and the Englishman did, indeed, have feelings for him. _Maybe_.

But he didn't expect to be _beaten_. Even if the man in question had been the recipient of Alfred's so-called 'DDR training', he was _Asian_. Hell, he was _Japanese_. He was supposed to be able to beat _anyone_ (excluding other Asians) at these games.

Kiku _hmph_ed, and switched to 'Expert' level. Arthur gave up after five minutes and collapsed on the couch.

Unfortunately, so did he.

_Hmph. We'll call it a draw this time. Next time, you are going __**down.**_

The two men lay on the couch, attempting to get their breath back.

Kiku, of course, recovered first- after all, he _had_ been playing DDR most of his life, and looked over at Arthur, who was still gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

And maybe it was the lack of oxygen to Kiku's brain, but really, when you had a man as pretty as Arthur, who read the same stuff as you and was inhumanely good at DDR, it was stupid to let him go. His previous boyfriend was probably kicking himself right about now. (Somewhere in France, a Frenchman fell off a ladder).

Kiku leaned over and kissed the man on his couch. And then realised what he was doing.

He pulled back rather reluctantly, and sat on the other side of the couch, completely unrepentant (but still a little nervous). After several moments of awkward silence, he edged towards the middle of the couch, and glanced over. Arthur was sitting rigidly on the edge of one of the cushions, bright red and pointedly looking everywhere but at Kiku.

"I'll have you know, I- I am _not_ dressing up in anything you pull out. Alfred told me about y-your, um, cosplay stuff."

Kiku smirked- it seemed like he was _better_ at body language then he'd originally thought- and leaned in for another kiss. There'd be time to force Arthur into cosplay later.

But not before he beat him in DDR. After all, he couldn't have people knowing he'd been beaten, and by a _westerner_ at that. He had a _reputation_ to uphold.

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHA**

_**JAPAN TOPS**_

**HAHAHAHA**

**TAKE **_**THAT**_**, ASAKIKU SHIPPERS**

**LOL ACTUALLY I SHIP ASAKIKU TOO OTL (/SHOT WITH A POTATO GUN)**

**HUR HUR HUR**

**(/SHOT BY LUDWIG'S 'GUN' HURRR)**

**I CANNOT WRITE JAPAN 8U**

**Quality sucks, but that's what you get when I'm hyped up on caffeine. Three cups of tea and one cup of coffee. AWWW YEAAAAAAH.**

**I GOT A NEW TEA YOU GUYS**

_**IT SMELLS LIKE CRÈME BRULEE**_

_**T2 IS GOD**_

**Oh, right, yeah, I'm not dead.**


End file.
